


Clockwork

by whalebone



Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016)
Genre: Airships, Alternate Universe - Steampunk, Developing Relationship, Fantasy Prosthetics, M/M, References to Eye Injury, Robot/Human Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-21
Updated: 2021-02-21
Packaged: 2021-03-18 20:13:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,862
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29249346
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whalebone/pseuds/whalebone
Summary: Aeronaught Bodhi Rook battles with an airship, a storm, and some feelings.
Relationships: K-2SO/Bodhi Rook
Comments: 9
Kudos: 12
Collections: Chocolate Box - Round 6





	Clockwork

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Nununununu](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nununununu/gifts).



The dirigible, now unofficially called _The Rogue_ , had once sailed proudly with Earl Krennic’s fleet. Her huge frame was interspersed with neat brass portholes, her faded grey canvas bloated with gas. Once a gleaming marvel of engineering, she now appeared rather battered: the paintwork varnishing her wooden belly was a dull brown, the masts were worn and weathered, the sails patched. No one looked twice at her when she was tied up in port.

But she was, by a long way, Bodhi Rook’s favourite airship. After all, she had been the one that had saved them from the destruction of Earl Krennic’s despicable weapon’s factories last year. It had been a near thing, and sometimes Bodhi couldn’t believe that they had lived to tell the tale. He still woke from dreams of orange flames and the smell of his own burning skin.

Right now, Bodhi was hidden beneath one of the propulsion systems and tinkering with _The Rogue_ ’s gears. His hands and overalls were slick with grease. As he worked, he whistled an old tune he no longer remembered the words to. He could hear the low voices of Chirrut and Baze above, murmurs in their own tongue that Bodhi didn’t understand but found reassuring just the same. No doubt Chirrut was assuring Baze that the Aether was guiding them, even as Baze insisted otherwise. Bodhi had no idea if what Chirrut believed was true, but he found the Aetherist’s certainty comforting anyway.

Frowning, Bodhi reached up to adjust the aperture of his mechanised eye, the better to see what he was doing. The eye wasn’t a bad job, all told: the rebellion’s surgeons had salvaged the left side of his face and given him a decent replacement for both his eye and his ruined arm. He’d almost fully adapted to the strangeness of both, even as he thought he would never adapt to the fractures left in his mind.

By all rights he should have been dead about five times over. To be alive, to be aeronaught of a rebellion airship, to be _useful_ , was more than he could have imagined less than a year ago. And so he whistled the old tune, and worked on the ship, and waited for the rest of _The Rogue_ ’s crew to return from their intelligence gathering.

“Bodhi?”

Bodhi sat up abruptly, banging his head on the sharp wooden lip of the rudder. He cursed, his good eye watering as he pulled himself out from under the floating keel. When his vision cleared, Kay-Two was standing there watching him. 

Kay-Two was almost seven-feet of impressively engineered clockwork shaped like a man: darkly gleaming steel and burnished copper, gears and pistons and steam, all combined in a tall, imposing, strangely elegant form. 

“Is there a problem?” Bodhi asked, still half-lying on the ground. “Have you heard from the Captain?” 

Kay-Two would usually have accompanied Cassian into the city, but it was not an area known for its sympathies to constructs. Some thought them little more than walking analytical engines, and distrusted them, while others feared that they would soon replace the hard-working men of the docks and factories. The powerful, wealthy men of the Empire had long been using constructs for security and putting down any social unrest. Kay-Two had originally been built for this purpose, until Cassian had adjusted his engineering.

“Cassian and Jyn will return within the hour; they have located the informants. Will we be ready for lift-off?” Kay-Two watched Bodhi intently through his round optics, so reminiscent of the aeronaught’s goggles currently pushed up into Bodhi’s hair. A soft yellow light shone behind them, giving the impression of a frank, forthright gaze. The construct held out his large hand to Bodhi and helped pull him to his feet. His hand was pleasantly cool in the warmth of the day, his long fingers firm around Bodhi’s palm.

“I think so.” Bodhi wiped his hands on an old rag, a faint prickling heat at the back of his neck. He tried not to think about how much he liked Kay-Two’s focused attention. He had enough troubles with being a traitorous rebel on the run, without becoming known as a construct-fancier. Instead he turned to look out across the sky, where purple clouds were gathering on the horizon like a bruise. “They’d best hurry up. There’s a storm coming.”

Another soft whir of gears from Kay-Two, the sound that accompanied the construct’s mechanical thoughts. “Yes. We should consider staying here until it passes. We cannot afford further damage, even though your repairs are acceptable.”

‘Acceptable’, from Kay-Two, was a compliment. Bodhi felt a blush gather under his skin, and hoped that Kay-Two wouldn’t notice.

* * *

“It’s too much!” Cassian staggered up onto the main deck, feet sliding on the rain-slick floor, barely keeping upright against the airship’s bucking and heaving. The vicious wind whipped at him, and he needed to bend forwards to push against it. “Bodhi, it’s—” His next words were torn away in the wind.

Bodhi was drenched to the skin, his goggles pushed up into his soaking hair, the lenses too obscured by the water to be much use. _The Rogue_ banked hard into a storm cloud, and he had to fight for every inch of control. The wind wailed and screamed through the wooden masts, and the whole ship seemed to groan and shudder.

They should have stayed docked, Bodhi thought in despair. They should have found a way to throw off suspicion, to hide the informants from the marshals. He’d known the storm was building even before the barometer’s needle began to flicker, and now they were in danger of being pulled down from the sky.

Cassian swayed dangerously close to the starboard-side, only just managing to seize the rigging to anchor himself. Finally he reached the quarterdeck where Bodhi was wrestling with the wheel at the helm.

“Get below deck!” Bodhi yelled over the wind and the agonised groans of the rudder. “Tie down everything we need, stoke the furnaces—”

“You can’t stay up here!” Cassian exclaimed in frustration, his face taking on a familiar stubborn look. “You’re going to get yourself killed!”

He was probably not wrong. Cassian was an experienced aeronaught himself, after all.

“Someone’s got to steer her,” Bodhi shouted, wrenching at the wheel. “There’s a port five miles south. I can hold her until then. Get everyone else safe, Captain, I’ll keep her flying!”

“Bodhi—”

“I’m the _aeronaught_ , Cassian.” Bodhi fixed his mis-matched eyes on Cassian’s, willing him to understand. _I’m the aeronaught,_ he’d chanted in his drugged and tortured haze after Saw Gerrera’s alchemist had finished with him.

To his utter relief, Cassian nodded and headed below, to where Jyn and Baze were fighting the engine furnaces. Gritting his teeth, Bodhi turned his face back into the vicious wind.

“Bodhi!”

Kay-Two climbed up from _The Rogue_ ’s stern, his mechanical limbs moving confidently despite the perilous journey. The dirigible pitched horribly: Bodhi clung to the wheel, and he saw Kay-Two grasp the mizzenmast to keep himself upright.

“Go back to the hold!” Bodhi shouted, motioning wildly with one arm, a note of panic in his voice. The construct was stronger than men, to be sure, and less affected by the elements, but he could just as easily be knocked overboard. “Kay, get out—”

A blast of wind slammed into _The Rogue_ so hard that she threatened to spin to the side, her sails tearing. Bodhi swore and wrestled with the wheel, desperate not to let her spiral out of control. Kay-Two surged across the sodden deck and seized the wheel. The pistons in his great steel arms pumped harder as he fought with the ship, the steam visible even in the dark and the rain. Together, they manage to keep _The Rogue_ on-course.

“Thank you,” Bodhi panted. “Now get below.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Kay-Two retorted. His copper face was immovable, but he still managed to look annoyed. The pale glow in his optics was eerie in the darkness. “Someone needs to man the sails, and I am the most capable. I am staying.”

“We’re bare sail already,” Bodhi countered angrily. “You’ll be in danger up here, for god’s sake.”

“And so will you.” Kay-Two said simply. “I am going to help.”

The cool metal of his hand moved over Bodhi’s remaining fingers before he moved away, a tall, alien shape gleaming in the rain. Lightning cleaved the air before them.

Praying fervently under his breath, Bodhi turned back to his post.

* * *

They hit port with a shudder, the near-split masts whining. Baze— who cut an alarming figure, covered in soot from the furnaces— lowered the anchor to ground them. Bodhi was practically trembling with exhaustion, his hands clenched to the wheel as though he couldn’t bring himself to let go. He was vaguely aware of Cassian coming onto deck, talking about telegraphing Lady Mothma, of Jyn discussing repairs to the masts and bulwark, of Chirrut’s familiar prayer to the Aether. It all seemed very far away.

There was a familiar clanking sound, and a metal hand landed on Bodhi’s shoulder. 

““Our odds of survival were less than thirty percent,” said Kay-Two. “Congratulations.”

“Very cheerful,” Bodhi muttered, peering up at the construct. His mechanical eye had jammed, leaving him half in darkness. “Are you alright?” 

“Of course. I simply need to wind my mechanisms later. You need to rest, now.” Kay-Two’s hand was firm on Bodhi’s shoulder, steering him away from the helm. His good hand ached as he finally let go of the wheel, fingers stiff. He felt foggy and light-headed as he let Kay-Two steer him towards the crew quarters. The soft hiss and whir of the construct’s pistons was reassuring, steam curling into the morning air like will-o’-the-wisp. 

He sank onto the narrow bunk with a groan of relief. Every muscle in his body seemed to have seized up. His clothes were damp and he knew he should change into something clean and dry, but the effort seemed too much. He managed to shrug off his jacket and unlace his high boots, though his hands were shaking. With a groan, Bodhi buried his face in his palms.

Kay-Two’s hand landed on his shoulder again, and before Bodhi could stop himself he’d reached up and placed his own hand over it.

“Thanks,” he mumbled. “For helping me, you know. You could have been killed.”

“Of course I wouldn’t. I shall exist far longer than you humans. And you are very welcome.” Kay-Two sat down beside him, the thin mattress dipping under his weight. “We should not have flown through that storm.”

“No.”

“And yet we made it through, with a mostly-functioning ship.” Kay-Two’s mechanical voice warm, as though there were a smile in there. “You have adjusted well to your prostheses.”

Despite the exhaustion Bodhi felt a flush of pleasure. “Thanks. And I guess it’s getting easier. I need to, um—” Self-consciously he touched the seam of his eye, where scarred skin met the brass-framed glass lens. He needed to remove it, clean and wind the torsion spring, adjust the aperture, make sure there was no water damage, but his brain felt thick with tiredness. 

“I could help,” Kay-Two suggested. 

Protests leapt to Bodhi’s tongue, but died away as he looked up into Kay-Two’s expressionless face. The dull light of the cabin cast a warm glow over the construct’s features, turning his optical lenses golden. Bodhi had helped to fix those optics after the attack on Earl Krennic’s factories had left Kay-Two badly damaged. He hesitated, and then reached up to touch the groove that ran down the side of Kay’s face, where copper plating met dark steel. His fingers lingered over a rivet at his jaw.

“I told you that I am undamaged.”

Bodhi realised what he was doing and snatched his hand back. “I— yes, I know. Sorry. I… I think I can do it myself, Kay. Thank you.”

“Hm.” Kay-Two’s metal fingertips touched the very edge of Bodhi’s eye, where the skin was oddly sensitive. “This is good work, but I think it could be improved. Your eye should withstand more than this.” 

Bodhi shrugged uncomfortably, his heart racing as Kay-Two’s cool touch moved over his scarred skin. “They could have just given me a patch and left it at that. The rebellion isn’t exactly rolling in guineas.”

“That is true. I know you helped Cassian to fix me, when there were few resources.”

“Of course I did. You’re my… my friend.”

“I am?” Kay-Two sounded surprised, and pleased. “You are a very unusual human, Bodhi Rook. Perhaps even more unusual as Cassian.”

“I can’t tell if that’s an insult or not.”

“I prefer unusual humans.” Kay-Two traced the top of Bodhi’s mechanical eye, over the ridge of his brow. “I would be happy to assist with your eye.”

Bodhi found that he was leaning forwards, towards Kay-Two. He felt hazy with tiredness, warmth in his chest like steam. “Thanks, Kay. There’s, um, cleaning stuff in the trunk there.”

Removing the eye was fiddly work, but Kay-Two’s hands were surprisingly deft. As he worked, Bodhi watched the movements of the exposed gears and pistons in his arms, each moving in a smooth, reassuring pattern. Kay-Two’s movements were always accompanied by soft whirring and clicking sounds. Bodhi could have fallen asleep to those noises.

“I will remove the optic now,” said Kay-Two, and Bodhi snapped back to himself. He swallowed and nodded, a twist of nerves in his gut. When Kay-Two removed his eye he would see not only the mechanism that allowed Bodhi to use the eye, but the ruined remains of Bodhi’s eye-socket. 

“Hm,” said Kay-Two thoughtfully. 

“I’m sorry,” Bodhi mumbled, clenching his hands on his knees. “I know it’s not… pretty.” 

“Why in the world are you apologising?” Kay-Two asked as he gently disengaged the torsion spring. He sounded genuinely confused. “Your eye is meant to be functional and useful, not ‘pretty’.”

Bodhi laughed. “True enough. I just know it looks a mess.”

“It is nothing of the sort. It allows you to see, does it not? At least, until it malfunctions— and I would be happy to help improve that.” Kay-Two worked as he spoke, holding the mechanical eye carefully in one hand and oiling it with the other, his own optical lenses clicking as he focused. “And, though it does not matter in the slightest, I find your mechanical additions visually pleasing.”

Warmth spread across Bodhi’s cheeks. “I… you do?”

“Certainly. The contrast with your organic features is appealing.” Kay-Two did not look up at Bodhi. “I am aware that constructs are not meant to have visual preferences, but I have them just the same.”

“Oh.” Bodhi bit his lip. “That’s… I don’t mind. That you think that.”

They fell into silence as Kay-Two continued his work on Bodhi’s eye. When it was cleaned and adjusted to his precise satisfaction, he fitted it back into place with a satisfying little click. Bodhi had to close his real eye for a moment as dizziness threatened, but when he opened it again he found his vision restored. A quick adjustment to the aperture brought the mechanical eye into perfect alignment.

“Is that satisfactory?” asked Kay-Two, who was still very close. 

“It’s perfect.” Bodhi smiled at him and, daringly, let himself lean closer until there were bare inches between them. “Kay… you know that I… find you visually pleasing too?”

“Well, I am a very expensive construct. My design is highly—”

“That’s not what I mean.” Bodhi put his hand over Kay’s, letting his fingers slide through the gaps in the metal ones. Kay looked at their hands, and slowly curled his long fingers around Bodhi’s. 

“Oh,” he said. “Yes, I see. I had considered this to be a strange problem in my internal procedures. I asked Cassian about it, but he was most unhelpful. Perhaps I have miscalculated.”

“Perhaps.” Bodhi’s heart was in his throat as he closed the remaining distance.

Kay-Two’s face was smooth and cool under his lips. A faint taste of copper. A whir of gears, and then long fingers moved to Bodhi’s jaw.

“What do you think?” Bodhi asked anxiously, his heart slamming against his ribs as he pulled back. He could see the clockwork gears turning in Kay-Two’s chest.

“I think that you should do that again.”

Bodhi grinned, and obliged.

* * *

The dawn light shone clean and golden across the still ocean, sparkling on the waters like diamonds. Chirrut would say that was the Aether, shining like a beacon. 

Bodhi leaned over _The Rogue_ ’s bow, arms folded over the railing, and closed his eyes. The airship drifted lightly in the breeze, tugging at her anchor as though eager to get away. Down below Bodhi could hear Jyn haggling with the dock-master over their landing fees.

He heard the deck creak below familiar heavy footsteps, and turned to smile up at Kay-Two.

“Good morning,” he said easily.

“It seems to be,” Kay-Two agreed. “We’ll have clear skies today.” He let his hand rest on Bodhi’s back. Bodhi’s heart skipped, and he leaned briefly into Kay-Two’s side.

“I think you’re right,” he said.


End file.
